We Always Survive
by ThatBrownEyedIrishGirl
Summary: Set during the end of 'Motel California'. Lydia can't sleep, and Stiles is the perfect security blanket. Oneshot.


**We Always Survive  
**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

**First Teen Wolf fic! I recently got into it (I know, I'm a little late), and just **_**had **_**to write something for Stiles and Lydia. I am in love with those two (especially Stiles) and if any of you follow me on Tumblr (ThatBrownEyedIrishGirl . tumblr . com), you probably already know that.**

**So, I apologize if either of them seem OOC. I'm still getting their characters down. Let me know what you think :)**

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Fear.

It was something everyone experienced many times during their life, whether it was something as small as fearing over failing a test, or something as big as fearing for your life. It was an emotion so common that it was grouped right into the same category as happy and sad.

But true fear was entirely different. True fear came about in the most dire of situations, when your whole body freezes, everything becomes distorted and you suddenly can't feel anything but fear. When your heart doesn't just stop beating, it speeds up to a level so high you wonder if it's about to burst right out of your chest. Panic washes over you like a bucket of ice cold water, numbing your senses and sending your body into fight or flight mode.

Lydia Martin had felt true fear.

The night had been among the terrible kind. She had known from the minute they arrived at the motel that they were in for trouble. Allison had assured her it was just one night, but as Lydia had replied, a lot can happen in one night.

And she had been right.

In the space of forty-five minutes, Ethan had almost sawed himself in half and clawed himself to death, Boyd had nearly drowned, and Isaac... well, Isaac hid under a bed, but it could have been bad.

Stiles and Lydia herself thought they had been on top of things. They had snapped the other werewolves out of whatever had taken a hold of them, and with Allison on standby with Scott, all they had to do was burn him and he would be fine too. Everything would be fine.

The two of them had been on their way to the bus to retrieve the other road flare when Allison met up with them and revealed she hadn't been able to find her ex-boyfriend, but it was okay, because they had.

Standing in the middle of the parking lot, drenched in gasoline, Scott had held the lit road flare in his trembling hand, ready to drop it and ignite himself at any moment.

That's when the fear had begun mounting.

Lydia had been powerless to do anything but watch on in fear as a devastated and frightened Allison desperately tried to talk Scott out of it, but the boy had been gripped by his hallucination so tightly that he was dead set on ending it all.

It had been Stiles who had saved his best friend. Listening to him plead with Scott had tears streaming down Lydia's face, her heart pulling in sympathy for the two brothers.

And then, as she watched Stiles's body twitch as he moved and inched forward, literally stepping into danger, her heart rate sped up and the true fear began.

All she could see was Scott dropping the flare, and both boys being engulfed in a matter of seconds. She desperately wanted to grab Stiles and pull him back to her, but fought to remain where she was.

Stiles knew what he was doing. Scott would never hurt his best friend.

And when Stiles had a firm grasp on the flare and was throwing it away from them, she relaxed.

But only for a second. Because as Allison let out a relieved sigh, and Scott and Stiles remained staring at one another, her eyes stayed focus on the flare, and how a slight gust of air had it rolling back towards the puddle of gasoline.

That was when everything became blurry. All she could focus on was the impending fact that if that flare reached the gasoline before Stiles and Scott moved, everything would be over.

And the one thought going through her mind was - _no._

Lydia hadn't even realized she had moved until she felt the impact of her body hitting into Stiles and then experienced the feeling of falling down. She had tackled Stiles and Scott out of the line of death, and Allison was just a few feet away, on the ground too.

Clutching onto Stiles's side, Lydia stared back at the flames as they rose into the air, catching a flash of black through the orange flames. Peering closer, she hadn't stopped the gasp from escaping her lips as she locked eyes with whatever that _thing _had been. The disfigured face of the hooded figure remained ingrained in her brain, along with the dreadful cries of that poor baby.

Screwing her eyes shut tightly to stop the sting of tears from turning into full blown hysterics, Lydia shook her head and peeked over the back of the bus seat. It was passed three in the morning, and she hadn't slept a wink, though her enervated friends had had no trouble in drifting off. Allison lay behind her, curled up in a ball, sleeping soundly. Behind her, she could see Boyd and Isaac passed out along the back row, and across the tiny aisle from her were Scott and Stiles.

Scott lay with his head against the window, snoring softly. Her heart went out to him. The things he had said were too real and full of emotion to be anything other than how he really felt deep down inside. Stiles was beside him, his arms crossed over his chest and his head lolled back against the back of the seat. How he was comfortable was beyond her, but then she remembered that this was Stiles, and he seemed to be able to drape himself over anything and still sleep like a baby.

She smiled softly at the sight. Looking around at her friends, she reassured herself that they were okay. They were alive, and they were sleeping.

Sleeping like how that mother had told her baby they were going to do right before she drowned them both.

Lydia stifled the sob that tumbled from her lips by clamping her hand over her mouth. She needed air. She needed to be away.

Lydia considered waking up Allison, knowing the girl would go with her, but decided against it. Slowly getting up, she tip-toed her way to the door and slid it open, stepping into the cool night air.

The place was silent, and the only light in the area was purely artificial. The giant 'M' of the motel sign blinked red, a gentle buzzing noise emanating from it as the electricity struggled to get through. Lydia took a strange kind of comfort from it as she sat down on a bench a little ways away from the bus.

With her elbows on her knees, she took a few deep breaths before dragging her nails through her long hair and bending her head down towards her chest.

"You okay?"

Lydia jumped, her green eyes locking with the comforting hazel-y brown ones. Stiles.

She gave him a small smile and a nod,"Fine. Did I wake you?"

"I was in and out." Stiles shrugged, taking a seat beside her,"Did you get any sleep?"

Lydia sighed, shaking her head,"Couldn't. I don't think the adrenaline has faded just yet."

"It was a long night." Stiles said, in a way of agreeing, as if appeasing her,"Lot of crap happened."

Lydia hesitated,"You think he meant it?"

Stiles looked at her,"Who?"

"Scott." She answered in a small voice.

"Oh..." Stiles's eyes went to his sneakers as he shuffled his feet awkwardly,"I knew he felt guilty about Derek, but... the rest I had no idea about. I should have."

"Why should you have?" Lydia asked, her eyebrows knitting together.

"Because he's my best friend. What kind of best friend am I if I didn't even notice he felt that way. It's _Scott_, you know? The guy's always been an open book."

"Hey," She admonished gently, setting her hand on top of his,"You're a great friend. You're his brother. Stiles, even the most open people are capable of hiding things if they really try hard enough. You didn't notice because he didn't want you to. That's nobody's fault."

Stiles blinked and looked away before asking,"So, what's on your mind?"

Lydia teared up,"I think it's just this place. I really wanna get out of here."

"Lydie, don't cry." Stiles reached up and wiped the tear away before it could drop down her cheek,"It's okay, it's over now."

"I know." She nodded, her lower lip trembling,"I just can't get that baby out of my head. What kind of mother could drown her own baby? Who does that?"

"Sick people." Stiles answered,"I'm sorry you had to hear it."

"Me too." Lydia sniffled,"I hate this, Stiles. Why does all the bad stuff happen to us? Derek, Scott, Jackson..." Lydia trailed off,"And who is this Darach guy? How are we supposed to stop him when we know nothing about him? I just..."

Tears brimmed in her sparkling green eyes before tipping over the edge and cascading down her cheek. Stiles scooted closer and shed himself of his hoodie, draping it over her shoulders and pulling her to his chest. Lydia tucked her head under his chin, gripping the fabric of his shirt and crying into his chest.

His hand rubbed up and down her arm, generating heat that not only warmed her on the outside, but warmed her heart on the in. She finally felt safe.

"We'll figure it out, Lydie. We'll survive this."

"How can you be so sure?" She hiccuped.

Stiles's lips were cool as they pressed against her forehead with such care that it made her want to cry some more. Nobody had ever been so gentle with her, treating her as though she was some kind of precious creation that couldn't afford to be broken, like Stiles had. Hearing his heartbeat pounding steadily in his chest was doing wonders in calming her nerves, and with his lips still brushed so softly against her skin, he finally gave her an answer.

"Because, you and me... we always survive."


End file.
